


bad ideas and good ones

by roboticdisposition



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cat, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, and no i will not apologise for it, because it is not, don't think this is good, george brings home a cat, there is no plot here, this is self indulgent domesticity, will is not pleased with the cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 10:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19462099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roboticdisposition/pseuds/roboticdisposition
Summary: “George?” Will said gently, “What’re you doing by the doorway? You lost your keys or something?”George took a breath, albeit shaky, it was a breath, and then stepped back slowly, turning on his heels to face Will. And then the cat was out of the box, quite literally.“George?” Will said again, louder this time, more urgent, confused - George didn't blame him, really. He would’ve been terrified if a random overly large baby kitten had ended up in his flat. “Who is this, and why are they in our flat?”“That’s - that’s a cat, Will,” George mumbled, looking between the floor and the kitten, claws coming to scratch at Will’s socks. George resisted a grin, thinking this not the time. Will seemed to have stopped still. “That’s our cat.”“Our cat?”George felt time slow down, “Yeah,” he whispered eventually, looking up face Will, “Our cat.”





	bad ideas and good ones

**Author's Note:**

> hiya summer has begun and i've gone batshit, so what's new
> 
> disclaimer is that this is stupid, and very self indulgent, and i do not claim this to be actually Good in any way, shape, or form.
> 
> however, i would also die for will and george with a cat
> 
> so i guess ur stuck with this now
> 
> ur welcome
> 
> @chattrekisses helped me edit this n i appreciate it a lot so big hearts thank u sm <3
> 
> i hope u enjoy, hope ur all doing well, thank u xx

“Will?” George called out softly, closing the latch on the door behind him. It was silent, almost too silent - unless that was just George overthinking it. He supposed it didn’t help that he was carrying a petite cardboard box in his spare hand, one that was rustling with every step.

“What?” Will answered, muffled through the walls. “I’m just editing.”

George breathed a sigh of relief - it wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Will, it was just that… he had some explaining to do. And he thought he’d prefer to do it when he had at least taken his jacket off.

“No worries, I’ll come see you in a minute?” George asked, unlacing his shoes, placing the brown box by the doorway. Scratching came from inside the walls, echoing through the cardboard. George turned around, hands gesturing towards the box as if he could stop the noise - he couldn’t.

He looked down nervously, waiting for the noise to stop. And it did, it did. But then it started to meow, softly, at first, gradually growing like it was training to become a fucking lion standing guard at the doorway. The scratching resumed.

“Shh,” George tried to whisper, quickly tugging off his jacket to crouch down before the box; he didn’t know why this felt so secretive - it wasn’t like Will wasn’t going to find out. In fact, he would be vitally aware any minute, if the box didn’t shut up. “You’re okay, aren’t you?”

The box meowed again, drawn out like a formal complaint, signed off with claws against the walls. George rubbed at his eyes, wondering if he was making a mistake, if he should immediately turn on his heels, go back outside, back to the gentle lady’s house, and give the loud scratchy creature back.

But he didn’t want to. That was the thing.

George wanted this, he supposed; if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have brought the fluffy lump home. Although, considering how off the cuff his decision was - as in, that morning, he supposed he should have consulted Will, given the fact they were together, sharing a flat, and would now be co-owners of a cat.

“I’ll be out in a second,” Will called, “I’m just finishing the audio settings and shit.”

George took a shaky breath, nodding before he realised Will couldn’t see him. “Alright, yeah… no rush.” He wrung his hands by his front, his muscles twitching as the box stared back at him. George thought it stupid, stood staring at cardboard, especially given the fact the little furry fucker wasn’t even visible - he supposed it was just the concept of the thing.

Except if he was that scared of the concept, he shouldn’t have gotten one. George sighed, knowing he was spinning around in circles, knowing he had done so for the last however many hours, since he woke up and stepped out of the flat with a plan, really.

He was known to be impulsive, but maybe this was different, maybe this needed further consideration. George was just thankful he stopped off to buy cat litter, some food and a water bowl. He thought Will could join him to look for toys another time.

George looked down at the box, picking at his nails as the scratching started again - he supposed it was getting claustrophobic now, and as much as he didn’t want to face it, despite this being his idea, it wasn’t fair to leave the little thing in there any longer.

“Alright, alright,” George hushed to the box, rolling his eyes at himself as he realised what he was doing, what any of this was. He slowly peeked open the handles, opening the box from the sides, light filtering in and fur puffing out.

And then eyes, eyes appeared. And George thought he recognised those eyes, they were the eyes of the cat he chose at the woman’s house - the kitty, he supposed, since they were eight weeks. He recognised those eyes, but they looked different in the half-light in the doorway of his own house.

“You’re a bit big for a supposed baby cat, aren’t you?” George whispered, opening the box completely to find the cat lolling on it’s side, fluff poking out of the air holes on the left, it’s paw coming towards George slowly, something like intrigue in her eyes.

A door opened behind him, George froze, feeling caught out, feeling unsettled, uncomfortable, like he’d done something wrong. And in some aspects, he supposed he had. He supposed this wasn’t really his smartest, or his best move.

“George?” Will said gently, “What’re you doing by the doorway? You lost your keys or something?”

George took a breath, albeit shaky, it was a breath, and then stepped back slowly, turning on his heels to face Will. And then the cat was out of the box, quite literally.

“George?” Will said again, louder this time, more urgent, confused - George didn't blame him, not really. He would’ve been terrified if a random overly large baby kitten had ended up in his flat. “Who is this, and why are they in our flat?”

“That’s - that’s a cat, Will,” George mumbled, looking between the floor and the kitten, claws coming to scratch at Will’s socks. George resisted a grin, thinking this not the time. Will seemed to have stopped still. “That’s our cat.”

“Our cat?”

George felt time slow down, “Yeah,” he whispered eventually, looking up face Will, “Our cat.”

“Why do we have a cat?” Will pressed, eyebrows knitted together, “Why do we have a cat in our flat? Are we even allowed cats?”

George frowned suddenly, thinking he vaguely remembered they were, but it probably would’ve been smart to check. He feigned confidence regardless, “Of course.”

Will hummed, looking down at his feet, at the fluffy mottled fur ball having a wash, her back across Will’s toes. “Right,” Will said, shaking his head before raising his eyes again. “So - so why do we have a cat?”

George stumbled, his throat stuck under Will’s gaze, “Because I wanted one?” He stated it like a question, although he supposed it was more of an answer. “Look at it, it’s cute-”

“But,” Will stopped, hands gesturing to his feet, “That’s a cat, George.”

George snorted, unable to do anything else, his brain spinning in his skull. He wondered if this was a mistake, but he didn’t think he could do anything else about it, not now. “Yeah - congratulations, that is indeed a cat.”

Will opened his mouth, stopped again when the cat dug its claws into Will’s socks. “Excuse me, you little bastard-”

“Don’t call the cat a bastard,” George interrupted, receiving a glare in return. He stopped talking instantly, thinking it for the best.

“You gonna get off my foot now?” Will tried to coax the cat, bending down with confidence that made him look like a trained animal handler - except he wasn’t, and his outstretched fingertips weren’t doing much. “C’mon…” He groaned, looking up at George under his eyebrows. “You not gonna help me?”

“It’s our cat, Will. Meaning we both have possession, so you can do it too-”

“I don’t think I agreed to this,” Will grumbled, “In fact, I know I didn’t. I think I said ‘go and get some milk’, not ‘go bring home a cat’.” Will looked up in disbelief, giving in to the cat lounging across his toes, “I think there’s a discrepancy there.”

“You even know what the word discrepancy means?” George narrowed his eyes, feeling awfully defensive of this stupid cat that he wasn’t even sure about. “Whatever you told me to do, we now have a cat.”

“What if I don’t want a cat?” Will challenged, eyes flickering like sirens between George and the furball.

George stifled a smile, “Well, we’ve got one now.”

Will sighed, shutting his eyes with a huff before turning to look out the window. It was still early, a lunch break on the cards, despite George having done no work yet; the sun was high in the sky, Will’s eyes followed it slowly. George matched his gaze, looking out like the world had something to give; the cat meowed, stopping them both in their tracks. George supposed the cat was what the world had on offer today.

“What’s its name?” Will asked gently, his voice softening as he rubbed hands down his face. George wondered if he was warming up to the idea, before Will spoke again, “And no - I don’t like the cat, but I need to call it something.”

George grinned, thinking it something - thinking he would take anything he could get. He thought the fluffy fucker looked good next to Will anyway. “She doesn’t have a name yet-”

“She?” Will tilted his head in question, “The cat is a female?”

George stepped forward, leaning down to pet the cat - the cat hissed, George stepped back. Will just snorted, “She likes me-”

“You didn’t even want her a minute ago!” George defended, holding his hands up as the cat stared at him, glazed orange eyes that warmed like fire, something fierce like a fight behind the pupils. George wondered why he’d gone for her, with those eyes, instead of the softer, friendlier looking cats. Although he supposed there was a draw to her, and it’s not like he’d planned it, so he’d taken it for what it was, and brought the cat home.

“I still don’t want her,” Will levelled, “I’m just saying… she likes me the most.”

George frowned, grumpy as if he’d aged in the time it’d taken him to get home. “It’s just ‘cos you didn’t chase her ‘round some woman’s living room to get her in a cardboard box to take back on the taxi?”

“Chase her?” Will snorted, “You had to chase the kitten - bit sad that, isn’t it, George?”

“She runs fast,” George defended, his lips curling into a pout. He sighed, looking between Will and the cat, looking internally and thinking himself unsure whether this was genius or the most stupid thing he’d ever done. He sighed again, breath lost like fear; he thought at least Will hadn’t shouted at him.

George considered it for a minute, before counting it as a win. He supposed he should have considered it further: getting a cat in the first place, Will’s reaction - the rest of it. But as far as outcomes went, this wasn’t the worst, it wasn’t even particularly bad.

The silence was shortly broken by Will looking down and talking to the cat, “Bastard, you’re trying to eat my socks, aren’t you?”

George snorted, any tension broken, at least for the time being. He turned on his heels and went to fold up the cardboard box, tucking it by the doorway to take out later. Will was still talking to the cat when he turned back, muffled words as Will reached out to stroke it’s head.

“She looks a bit… a bit podgy, George.” Will stated, “Couldn’t you have gotten a healthy cat?”

“I liked her - she was feisty.” George defended, shrugging as he went to fill up a bowl of water. It was this plastic heart shaped bowl, patterns across the base. He wondered if he was going soft, although he supposed the flat he shared with his boyfriend and the cat between them said it all.

“Wasn’t there a feisty and vaguely healthy cat?”

George smirked, placing the water bowl at Will’s feet, the cat licking into it gently before returning to claw at his socks. “If you want to go back and look, maybe get another, keep her company and all that, then I can give you the woman’s address-”

Will glared at him, eyes looking like the cat’s, fiery and raised. George suddenly realised why he liked the thing. He sighed, knowing he had gone soft.

“She likes your socks,” George said instead, poking his toes out to see if the cat was as interested in his own. The cat hissed, Will poked him in the stomach; George sighed, thinking he had dug his own hole. “Maybe we should call her Socks.”

“Socks?” Will snorted, “We are not calling the cat socks-”

“You got any ideas then? You, the mastermind who didn’t want the cat, oh, like two seconds ago?”

Will rolled his eyes, “It’s not like we can take her back now, can we?” He shook his head, “I’m not the fondest of the fat fucker, but there’s not much I can do, considering she is now eating my socks. Oi-”

“You saying we can keep her?” George raised his eyebrows, unsure what he was really expecting, given the fact he had brought the cat here in the first place. It wasn’t like he expected to take her on an outing and take her back to her mum’s.

“Haven’t really got a choice in the matter,” Will snorted, “Given someone didn’t consult me-”

“You were asleep?” George attempted, waving his hands between them, stopping when the cat looked up, disturbed with claws prodding up to them. “I just sort of… did it.”

“Yeah,” Will sighed, “So I suppose due to your own stupidity, we are keeping the cat.”

George grinned, unable to resist. Will poked him again in the stomach, his hands coming to rest around his shoulders.

“You’re stupid,” He said, muffled into his hair as he curled him into his chest. George didn’t complain, tucking his head into Will’s neck and curling closer, his skin warm like the sun against his own.

The cat hissed. George pulled away. “Right,” he said slowly, “You don’t like us hugging then, do you?”

Will snorted, “Well - least now I don’t have to pretend to want to hug you-”

“Uncalled for, that is,” George mumbled, prodding his fingers down Will’s ribs. “You can’t gang up on me with the cat that I brought home.”

Will gave him a look, “I thought she was our cat?” He smiled, lips curling up, “Not your cat, that you brought home? It’s either one or the other, George.”

George stumbled, shaking his head, “She’s our cat.”

“Yeah,” Will grinned, “I thought so-”

“This means you’re a dad now, I guess.” George snorted, nudging him before turning around to set up the litter tray, following the bloke from the pet shop’s instructions as he undid the plastic.

“Shut up,” Will yelled after him, “I’m letting you keep your stupid cat - you can’t attack me too. That’s not how it works-”

“I thought she was our cat?” George grinned, cutting open the bag of litter. He heard Will groan behind him, he smiled, pouring out the litter, thinking this all so monumentally stupid, but thinking it perhaps a stroke of genius at the same time. It could be both, after all.

“Yeah,” Will mumbled in the end, George turning back around after tucking the box of litter by the corner of the kitchen, “You are, you absolute sock eating bastard.”

George just grinned, and he grinned, and he thought himself stupid, but he thought that he didn’t really care.

\--

“Will,” George said, calling out across the room; the cat was sat on the kitchen counter, claws retracted but ready to pounce, and Will was taking plates out of the dishwasher. George just lolled on his side, sprawled across the sofa with his phone, disguising his laziness for emails. “I’ve thought about it, and I meant it when I said we should call the cat Socks.”

Will looked up, making a face, “Why the fuck would we call the cat Socks?”

George snorted, pulling himself together like a stick figure of limbs to sit steady, “‘Cos she likes eating your socks, it’s a cute name, right?”

“No,” Will grumbled, huffing under his breath, glaring back at the cat as if he was about to hiss. “I think she should be called Fat Fucky Fluffy Thing.”

“You’re just grumpy,” George smiled over his shoulder, smirking when Will gave him a death stare.

Will sighed, shutting the dishwasher with a thump, “I wonder why,” he barked a laugh, “It’s not like you, George Memeulous, brought home a cat out of nowhere - not even a thin slender little thing, a fat little kitten… just imagine the vet bills, I’m not paying for them.”

“I’ll pay the stupid vet bills,” George sighed, “It doesn’t matter… she looked like she had guts ‘nd shit, so what if she’s a tubby kitten?”

“Maybe she’s been eating everyone's fucking socks,” Will snorted, coming to sit besides George, hips bumping as they fitted together, “Maybe that’s why she looks…” Will trailed off, gesturing wildly into the air.

“That’s why it should be her name,” George shrugged, smiling as he tucked himself into Will’s shoulder. “Socks. It sounds good, she suits it.”

“I don’t like it,” Will stated bluntly, coughing out a laugh, “You brought her home, so I get to name her.”

George narrowed his eyes into the fabric of Will’s hoodie, “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with the cat?”

Will grumbled, hands against his lap, picking at the strings of his hoodie, “As you’ve kept saying, she’s our cat, so I guess I need to take half responsibility.”

“And you wanna take that responsibility in the duty of naming her?” George frowned, “‘Cos that’s a big deal, Will. I’m not having a cat for like thirteen years with a stupid name just ‘cos you’re petty-”

“Thirteen years?” Will spluttered, “Is that how long the fucker is gonna live?” He rubbed at his eyes, “I feel like a little warning would’ve been nice.”

George stomped the guilt in his chest, trying at a smile, “Yeah, but she’s cute, you like her… you just don’t wanna admit it.”

Will glared at him, amber eyes that matched the cat all too well, “I do not like the cat, George.”

George laughed, nudging his shoulder into Will’s, warm reflected through bodies, “You will eventually.” He smiled, teeth grazing against the skin of Will’s neck. “You’re gonna have to.”

The cat, as if she’d heard them, pounced over delicately, landing in between them like she was made to fit there. Except she wasn’t, and George was pushed to the right, Will to the left, and this tubby kitten sat between them, licking her paws.

“Right,” Will stumbled, looking down at the cat as if it had personally offended him - George wondered if it had, if maybe he valued their downtime as much as George did. “You’re gonna move, you fat bastard-”

“Me?” George joked, laughing a pitch too high, “Bit rude for someone you consider a boyfriend, isn’t it?”

Will levelled him a look - one that George had become all too common with over the last twelve hours. He supposed bringing home a cat did that to a man.

“How do I get the cat to move?” Will whispered, as if by lowering his tone, the cat wouldn’t understand him. George just stared at him incredulously, thinking she was a cat, she couldn’t hear them regardless. Although, he couldn’t deny he thought it was cute nevertheless.

George snorted, “Oh, I don’t know… how about you pick her up?” He shook his head in disbelief, eyes locked onto Will’s like it was all he knew. “That might be an idea.”

“Shut up,” Will grumbled, his fingers grabbing out to reach for the cat. George watched the cat pause, tongue mid-air as she stopped licking her paws; he considered alerting Will that she was vitally aware of his every movement, but he thought there was nothing on the TV, and this counted enough for evening entertainment. So he kicked his legs back and watched.

Will’s fingers curled around her fur first, although the cat scampered through them as if he’d never even touched her. George laughed lowly, chest vibrating as Will groaned, leaning into his side. The cat meowed as it stalked off, little paws pressing down Will’s thighs.

George raised his eyebrows, watching as the cat looked between the pair of them, lucid eyes like some nightmare, although George just smiled, thinking this warm and stupid - family. Then the cat sat on Will’s feet, paws pressing against his toes, kicked out against the coffee table.

“I reckon the only reasonable name for this beast,” George started, waiting for Will to hum before he continued, their eyes set on their target, “Is Socks-”

“We are not calling the cat Socks, George,” Will complained, digging his elbow into George’s thigh, just for the sake of it. George pushed him off, nudging at his side gently, fabric rustling enough to get the cat’s attention.

They paused, staying still like some almighty standoff. Except this was a cat, their cat. The cat George brought home that day, the cat that had already trampled cat litter across the floor, spilt the water bowl twice and played with its food like each nibble was a literal mouse. The cat watched them with careful eyes, hunched shoulders - George thought she looked like an old man.

He wondered if that was right, if she was healthy, if kittens were supposed to look old and grumpy - the woman assured him she was medically sound, but he thought you could never trust anyone these days. Although George knew he was just being stupid, tired and sleep-deprived after waking up too early to get a taxi to Essex for the fucking cat in the first place.

He knew the cat was fine, just tubby and looking a bit old-man-like. George didn’t suppose he minded that; she was cute, she had eyes like Will’s, she watched them like they were her prey. He thought it a gentle dynamic, fiery embers across the sofa.

George snorted, “Her name is Socks.” He said, watching as the clock in the corner ticked, and the cat turned back around, nestling into the curve of Will’s ankles. She sniffed at his socks, clawing at the fabric. “And that’s that.”

“No.” Will headbutted him in the shoulder, nestling into his neck. “It’s not.” George sighed, thinking he could save it for another day.

\--

“You big bastard of a kitten,” Will grumbled, waking George up with the stony gravel in his voice, the bite in his throat. “Get off my chest,” his arms waved, George could only see through one of his eyes, the other still thinking it was too early, desperate to return to sleep.

“Did we get a cat then?” George huffed, breath casting against Will’s shoulder as he nestled further into his pillow, the lines between each side of their bed a big blur, George’s legs intertwined and Will’s hands loose. “Or was that just a dream?”

Will’s neck snapped towards his, the motion jerky enough to spark George to open one of his eyes. “No,” He said sternly, George just shut his eyes again, “You got a cat, I was not a part of this ordeal.”

George sighed, wriggling closer so his chin could be propped up against Will’s neck. “You are now.”

George may have shut his eyes again, but he could feel the roll of Will’s own heading back into his skull. “I didn’t want to be,” Will grumbled, his head shifting back forward, looking up at the ceiling. “But now this lump won’t get off me.”

“Yeah,” George nodded, half-paying attention, half-thinking of how many extra hours of sleep he could get away with. “Don’t worry.” He mumbled, unsure what the root of his words even was anymore.

George opened his eyes suddenly when Will nudged him heavily in the knee, his muscles protesting when he squirmed, still sleep-weary as he blinked his eyes open. He, surprisingly or not, came face to face with a kitten, fluff ragged with narrowed eyes.

“Will?”

Will sighed, “What now?”

“Why is there a cat on your chest?” George asked, words thick in his throat, consciousness still a wavy concept.

Will glared at him and George was glad looks couldn’t kill; he thought four eyes on him this early was a new concept. He wondered if this was his fault, before instantly realising it was. He couldn’t say he minded, however.

“There is a cat on my chest, George, because someone decided it would be a good move to bring one home, yesterday.”

George snorted, “She likes you.”

“I don’t care if she likes me or not - I don’t like her.” Will pouted, his gaze softening when he realised George was awake now. “Take her off me, please.”

George raised his eyebrows, “You have working hands too, y’know-”

“This was not my fault,” Will protested, hands wiggling free to gesture manically, likely disturbing the cat even further. “This fluffy bastard is on you and therefore you are the one to look after her.”

“You sound like my mother with the hamster I had for three days before it escaped and ran away-”

“You hear that?” Will faced the cat, fluff between his fingers as he stroked her ears. “Run away now, you fucking bastard, before he can get at you too.”

“If you dare poison my cat against me-”

“Your cat, huh? You’ve told me enough times she’s ours and I need to contribute, so… make your mind up.” Will interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips like bait. George released the tension in his shoulders and sighed.

“She is ours. Belonging to both of us, she is ours.” George rubbed at his eyes, heat across his cheeks. “Come here, Socks-” He started, before yet again, being interrupted.

Will coughed slowly through a laugh, “Her name is not Socks.”

This time, George was the one to glare, the cat’s eyes shutting as it got comfy across Will’s chest. “It is.” He defended, before reaching out and grabbing the cat before it could protest, and settling her on top of his own chest instead.

Bright orange eyes peered down at him, a tongue coming to lick his chin. George narrowly avoided a cat’s tongue in his mouth - he thought the day was off to a good start. Will snuffled a laugh next to him, turning over now that he had full use of his limbs again, turning to face George with an anticipatory smile.

“There,” Will smiled, beaming sunshine brighter than the gap in the curtain ever could, “See? That wasn’t that hard-”

The cat huffed, meowing before digging it’s claws into George’s chest, narrowly missing skin due to the thick padding of the duvet. She stalked her way across the planes and back onto Will’s chest. This time more central, across his ribs.

George wheezed a laugh, his eyes clenched shut as his head fell back against the pillow.

“She likes you-”

“Shut up,” Will groaned, his fingers coming up to pet at her ears, sighing heavily in his throat. “I wanted to go back to sleep, you big fucking furball-”

“Her name is Socks.”

“No, our cat’s name is not Socks.”

“Our cat?” George questioned, knowing he was testing his luck. “I’m glad you agree.” Will just sighed.

“Go back to sleep,” Will commanded, his voice gruff like he knew George had a point. George grinned, smiling when he shut his eyes, smiling when he heard the cat mewl, the sheets rustling, as Will’s breaths evened out and the room fell back into silence.

\--

“I think we should call the cat Bastard,” Will spoke clearly, out of nowhere, his headphones still plugged into the computer, the cat still lazy across his feet. George narrowed his eyes, waiting for him to elaborate, but when he didn’t, he sighed.

He lowered the lid of his laptop, giving him a wider scope to analyse whether Will was being serious, “We can’t call the cat Bastard-”

“Well, her name isn’t gonna be fucking Socks.” Will defended, “And considering I didn’t want the thing in the first place, I feel it’s only fair that I get to name her.”

George squinted, tilting his head between the cat and Will. He thought they looked nice, soft - warm. “Her name is Socks,” George said bluntly, leaving no room for discussion. Will opened his mouth to protest, but George had already raised his laptop screen and continued editing.

He smiled secretly behind his fingertips, Will’s eyes on him like wonder. George stifled his grin eventually, and continued his work. He thought that was the conversation over.

\--

“Hey, hey, you big fucking bastard-”

“She’s only a kitten,” George interrupted, swinging his legs on the counter, watching Will struggle with the toaster, the cat diving between his arms. “I know she’s a bit… chubby, but you can’t call a kitten big.”

Will stared at him, orange eyes reflected from the cat’s pupils, “I can and I will.” He looked back, dropping his hands from the toaster. “Move, you fluffy lump.”

George’s lips curled into a smile, watching as the cat stared back at him, a paw reaching out to claw at his chest. Will dodged out of the way, the cat meowed.

“She just wants to be loved.”

“You give her love then,” Will complained, using both palms to slowly push the cat across the counter towards George. “I’m making toast.”

“You’ve got two hands,” George raised his eyebrows, smirking as he tried to pat the cat’s head, her little body darting out the way before he could. George sighed, “You can do two things at once.”

“Excuse me,” Will shook his head, the muscles in his jaw ticking. “This is not my cat, it is our cat, therefore it is a joint effort, as you keep telling me.”

“Yeah,” George nodded, “Isn’t that right, Socks - you’re our cat, aren’t you?”

Will’s hands returned to the toaster, this time with a fork, prodding into it half-hazardly. “Her name is Bastard.”

“No, it’s not.” George sighed, kicking his legs out to nudge at Will’s hip. “Oh, did I tell you she’s eaten those red socks of yours?”

“She’s done what now?” Will stopped still, looking up at George with hooded eyes. George suddenly realised maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it.

George stuttered, “She’s just… had a bite of your socks, nothing big, don’t worry.”

Will dragged his nails down his face, rubbing at his eyes, “Right.” He sighed, dragging the burnt piece of bread from the toaster, crumbs bouncing along the counter, crumbs that the cat was more than eager to scoff.

George resisted a smile, thinking the whole thing stupid, thinking that he loved it regardless. Will turned around to grab the butter out of the fridge, the cat looking between George and Will before making a run at his piece of toast.

She didn’t get very far, but George didn’t try and stop her. He pretended to watch Will, instead, focusing on the cat out of the corner of his eye. She stamped her paw across the crust and licked at the corner.

Will turned back around with the butter in one hand, rambling on about his latest video before stopping still. “Bastard-”

“Her name is not Bastard,” George interrupted, immediately shutting up after receiving a glare. “Okay, maybe just this once, she can be called Bastard.”

“This cat is a nuisance,” Will whined, stomping back to the counter to lift the cat off his piece of toast. He stared down at it,a look in his eyes showing that war had begun, and then continued to butter it.

“See, you’re bonding,” George laughed, “You’re eating her piece of toast, that’s progress.”

Will glared at him, the cat started licking her paws. George thought he was happy, watching on feeling stupid as he watched Will defend his toast. He liked it, he thought. He wondered if this was such a bad move after all.

\--

“George,” Will yelled, voice coming from the closed door into his room. “Can you bring in Bastard’s water, she keeps licking her lips.”

George narrowed his eyes, standing up from the sofa, throwing his phone behind him. “Can’t you get it yourself?”

“She’s our cat, George.” Will groaned, George could hear the protest in his voice. “That means a joint effort.”

George sighed, although he was already holding the water bowl between his fingertips. “You could still move, I’ve been cleaning up the mess her food made all morning.”

“She’s on my chest, I don’t wanna disturb her-”

George opened the door, narrowed eyes and a small smile, “I thought you didn’t like the cat, Will?” He held out the water bowl towards the cat, waving it in front of her for her to take a sip. She didn’t, she just glared at it. George snorted, putting it down on the bedside table.

“I - I don’t,” Will protested, arms gesturing, the cat staring to get him to stop moving. And he did, his face softened and his hands came up to pet her head. “She just got comfy. I didn’t wanna move her.”

George smirked, turning on his heels, “You look awfully cosy considering you don’t like her.”

“Shut up.”

George grinned, shutting the door behind him.

\--

“I think she’ll like this one, don’t you?” George held up a squeaky mouse, plastic with a plaited string tail, knotted at the end. “Cats like mice and shit, don’t they?”

Will made a face, “I’m not having your cat throw a mouse around our flat-”

“Our cat might like mice,” George smiled, emphasis pointed to make Will roll his eyes, which he did - George liked winding him up. “You can’t hold her back from her natural urges.”

“I’m not buying our cat a mouse,” Will grumbled, shaking his head as he took the toy from George’s hands and put it back on the counter. “Look, get that laser thingy, she can chase the light ‘nd shit.”

“Aren’t lasers dangerous?”

Will snorted, “I don’t think Pets At Home would sell a dangerous pet toy to blind our cat, you idiot.”

George ruffled his feathers, shaking his head and nudging Will in the side, but picking up the toy regardless. “It needs batteries. That’s your job then, considering you wanted this toy.”

“She’ll like it,” Will stated bluntly, leaving no room for arguments. George snorted, watching the soft look cross his face as he played with his nails, looking at the toys. “What?” Will asked him, noticing George staring.

George just shook his head, sunshine across his cheeks “You like the cat.”

“I don’t,” Will groaned, “I just don’t want her to be bored.”

“Sure,” George nodded, widening his eyes as if to believe him. Will nudged him this time, shoulders bumping, causing him to stumble to the side. “That’s rude,” George complained, folding his arms.

“C’mon, I’ll pay, let’s get this and go… I don’t want her to eat any more of my socks.”

George snorted, passing the toy to Will, pretending to follow him to the checkout, grabbing the plastic mouse again as he went, sneaking it onto the counter next to the laser.

Will sighed, George grinned. George thought he liked it, domesticity, if that was what he could call toy shopping for their cat at seven pm on a Saturday night.

“I thought you said to me you didn’t want to pay for the cat?”

“No,” Will corrected, handing over his card, “I said I’m not paying her vet bills.” He turned to look at the cashier, a young girl watching them with careful eyes. “She’s a bit of a fat kitten, you see. I don’t want to go into debt ‘cos this idiot brought home a chunky bastard-”

“Her name is Socks.” George butted in, grinning like he’d won a prize. Will gave him a look.

“Her name is still undecided,” He clarified, looking between the cashier and George. The cashier just nodded, a hesitant smile across her face as she handed back his card. George couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, tucking both toys into his bag, feeling like maybe the prize he’d won was happiness, or the lottery, or both.

\--

“Is that my sock, in her mouth?” Will stared into the flat, key still tight in his fingers.

George peeked over his shoulder, snorting as he shrunk back down, pushing Will further into the flat, “Yeah, I think it is.”

“Fucks sake.”

\--

“Hey, George?” Will looked up, the cat slotting her paws between his ribs as he lay back on the bed. George was by his side, flicking through blue lights on his phone. “What if Socks is her middle name.”

George looked up sleepily, hazy eyes like confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Her name can be Bastard Socks.”

George snorted, “No it can’t,” he poked his fingers into Will’s chest, the cat hissing when he disturbed her. He backed away, Will just laughed. “Socks is her first name - anyway, she’s a fucking cat, she doesn’t need a middle name. Her name is just Socks.”

“I don’t think it is, George,” Will complained, holding his fingers out for the cat to sniff, gently running them through her fur after establishing she wouldn’t throw a fit. “She’s a bastard, therefore her name is Bastard.”

“No,” George yawned, nestling closer into the sheets, not even caring that the cat had stolen Will’s arms. “It’s not.”

“You’re falling asleep,” Will pointed out, “So you can’t argue with me.”

“That’s flawed logic,” George nudged him again, earning another hiss from the cat. “Alright, alright - sorry. I know, he’s your man, I get it.” He shook his head, looking at the cat like a face-off, one vs one in the ring kind of shit.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Will sounded like he was smiling, “I’m her man, you said it yourself.”

“Yeah, ‘cos I won’t let her eat my socks-”

“I think she had one of yours in her mouth this morning,” Will interrupted. George cracked his eyes open, watching Will grinning at him, too bouncy for the middle of the night.

“Probably ‘cos you gave it to her.”

“I did no such thing,” Will smiled, turning back to the cat, the glint in his eye telling a different story.

“How about Socks as her first name-”

“No,” Will cut in.

George didn’t let him finish, “Socks as her first name,” He said again, levelling glaring eyes towards Will, “Then Bastard as her middle, if you’re so fucking dead set on it.”

Will hummed, “No.” He said bluntly, “Now go to sleep. Bastard, you too.”

George sighed, fingers rocking into Will’s shoulder, “I know,” he said, before the cat could even hiss, “We can share him.”

George had shut his eyes, but he could see Will’s smile beaming.

\--

“You’re fucking soft over this cat,” George told him, shaking his head as he walked in, mask and glasses in one hand, shutting the door with the other. “Filming a video with her on your lap? I mean, really?”

Will turned around to glare, amber eyes following him. George sighed, thinking himself used to it by now. “Shut up, this was your fault.”

“I don’t hear a denial.”

\--

“Maybe you’re cute after all,” George heard Will’s voice soft, like whispers in the evening, the lamp the only thing shining throughout the main room. “Don’t tell George, though. That’s our secret.”

George narrowed his eyes, resting his back against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. Will was sprawled out on his back across the vinyl hardwood, the cat sniffing around his socks before crawling up his chest.

“You’re a stupid fluffy fucker,” Will said, “But you’re cute, Bastard.”

“Her name is Socks.” George interrupted, alerting Will to the fact he was listening. He saw the crimson colour in his cheeks and grinned, turning around to grab at two tea bags.

“Yeah, and your name is Twat, so-”

“No way to speak to your boyfriend, now, is it?” George smirked, pouring the water as rustling filled the room behind him.

George heard footsteps, Will coming up behind him, and then he felt a scampering cat at his ankles. He snorted, thinking they only came in a pair now.

“For the record,” Will clarified, his arms draping around George’s neck, “I don’t like the cat, I just put up with her… just like I put up with you.”

“So when you told me you loved me, that was just putting up with me?” George smirked, “‘Cos if you’re putting up with the cat too…” George trailed off, hinting at words to come. Will just bumped him with his hip, stealing his mug of tea.

“I don’t love the cat,” Will grumbled, sipping his tea, mumbling something low as he went to sit back down, the cat lazily strutting by his feet. George snorted, thinking Will was stupid, thinking he loved him regardless.

\--

“How about her name is Socks, the Bastard?” Will said gently one morning, the cat taking up permanent residence across his chest.

George opened his eyes in surprise, “So you’re saying her first name is Socks?”

“No,” Will whined, shuffling under the sheets; the cat never hissed at him. “I’m saying, like… that’s her full name.”

“Socks, the Bastard?” George snorted, laughter held back in his throat, “You want our cat to have a double name?”

“Yeah,” Will grumbled, “‘Cos I can’t keep arguing over the cat’s name.”

“Our cat, Will.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Will brushed it away, shaking his head, resting an arm across George’s chest. “I think our cat’s name should be Socks, the Bastard.” He said again after a moment’s silence.

George smiled, hiding it under the sheets, feeling something warm flourishing in his chest. “Yeah, alright.” He nodded, resting his head against Will’s shoulder. “While you’re somehow feeling mellow, wanna admit you love her too, or…”

“I don’t love the cat, George,” Will grumbled, glaring at him with sleep dusted eyes. George smiled, nestling closer against his neck, he didn’t try and pet the cat - he didn’t want the hiss, but he thought the moment was perfect as it was.

\--

“George,” Will said slowly, “Can we go buy new socks, I can’t keep wearing these fucking holey ones that Bastard has eaten.”

“Yeah,” George snorted, “Can go on the way to Tesco’s, if you want.”

Will nodded, standing up to reach for his shoes.

“You not gonna complain about her eating them in the first place?” George narrowed his eyes, watching after Will as he disappeared towards the doorway.

Will stopped still when the words were floating in the air. George turned around to watch. It looked like he was glitching, somehow. George just snorted, laughing lowly in his throat.

“I’m not happy with her.” Will said bluntly, “But if that’s what she likes, I can’t stop her.”

George rolled his eyes, standing up to reach for a jacket, “If you say so… definitely got nothing to do with the fact you love our cat.”

“It doesn’t, not at all.” Will folded his arms, fidgeting as he played with his keyring. “Let’s go before she realises we’re gone, I don’t want her to meow at me again, it’s pitiful.”

George snorted, but he didn’t complain, and he followed Will out of the door.

\--

“Maybe the cat isn’t so bad,” Will broke the silence, words like bullets through George’s chest. He stopped, resisting a smile as he looked up at Will, eyes wide like saucers. “Maybe she’s a bit cute.”

George hummed, raising his eyebrows, “You love her-”

“I don’t,” Will pressed, although his voice seemed softer, less resistant. George wondered if he was coming down with something. “Just… maybe she’s a bit cute, that’s all.”

“Mmm,” George nodded, tossing an arm around Will’s waist. “If you say so.”

“Yeah,” Will whispered quietly, the cat snoring against his feet like she was a grown man in an armchair. “Yeah, I do.”

George smiled, looking between the cat and Will, thinking something like love, something like home, something like bad ideas, and good ones. He wrapped his fingers into Will’s ribs, laying them between bone, and he thought this a good one.

**Author's Note:**

> mm yeah babey we love domestic idiots, i am vitally aware of the trainwreck and utter travesty that this is, but it's warm and i'm happy so that's that
> 
> please comment n kudos n all that, i know im a bitch but i really do appreciate it
> 
> message me on tumblr if u wanna, my user is roboticdisposition
> 
> thank u for reading, i hope u enjoyed, thank u kindly xx


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